


Nice To Meet You Too

by parseltonquinq



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Basically a PWP, Drinking, M/M, Smoking, Top!Harry, also bathroom sex, bottom!Draco, drug mention, they're at a party, this is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parseltonquinq/pseuds/parseltonquinq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Harry Potter was volatile and dangerous and Draco really shouldn’t have had anything to do with him. He was toxic and lethal and Draco knew that no good could come of him, but he was drawn to him like a moth to a flame."</p>
<p>Draco and Harry are consistently drawn to one another despite their mutual toxicity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice To Meet You Too

Harry Potter was volatile and dangerous and Draco really shouldn’t have had anything to do with him. He was toxic and lethal and Draco knew that no good could come of him, but he was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He heard Potter’s pounding bass before the car pulled into the parking lot. Windows down, the music poured out of the car along with smoke. Draco sat in the lot of the abandoned diner, sprawled on the hood of his Porsche, a half-empty Solo cup in one hand. His hooded eyes tracked Potter as he cut the engine and stepped out of the car, cigarette between his teeth, tattoos peeking out from beneath his stained white t-shirt.

Potter’s smile was sharp as a knife when he saw Draco. He inhaled deeply from his cigarette, then made his way over. Draco didn’t offer any sign of acknowledgement, merely took a sip of his drink.

The first time he met Potter, he was in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by strangers and a couple of familiar faces. Potter seemed intrigued by him, recognizing the same restless recklessness shooting through Draco’s veins as in his own. He said something that pissed Draco off and Draco punched him, letting his fist crunch satisfyingly as it collided with the other boy’s nose. Potter had just grinned, wild and alive, and said ‘Nice to meet you too,’ before punching Draco back.

Not quite knowing what to do with this boy, _sensing_ how he really shouldn’t want anything to do with someone like that, yet knowing he really _did_ , Draco had just stared at him. Potter had found him later when his nose wasn’t bleeding and his smile had been feral as he swallowed down a pill between kisses, then flicked an identical one into Draco’s mouth. They’d ridden on ecstasy and each other for what felt like days until the crash. Potter had assured him he’d be seeing him again and Draco had wondered what he was getting into.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing out here?” Potter asked. “Never know what kinda guys hang around a dump like this.” He stopped to lean over Draco and exhale smoke from his lips. Not breaking eye contact, Draco inhaled the smoke, then tilted his head to blow it back out. Potter grinned slowly, like a cat. “Never know who’ll stumble upon you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Draco said, knocking back another gulp of his drink.

“I didn’t know you partied with the Zabinis.”

“I didn’t know _you_ did.”

“I party with everybody.” Potter took a couple of lazy steps back, green eyes glowing. Cigarette dangling between his teeth, he cast a sweeping gesture toward the diner, where the party was raging. “Coming?”

“Maybe if I get lucky,” Draco retorted, standing and leading the way into the diner. Potter’s wild laugh shook his bones, sounded like a promise.

Bodies writhed in corners, cups littered the floor, music pounded in the abandoned structure. Zabini was in the midst of some game being played on an old booth, but laughed when he saw Potter.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” He shouted.

Without missing a beat, Potter pointed a finger gun toward Zabini and flashed a set of gleaming teeth. Draco left him to refill his cup. On the counter, near where the register must have sat, various bottles sat. Frowning, Draco left his cup at the counter, discarding the idea of more alcohol—he could do without.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply as he made his way through the strangers surrounding him. He had come more out of boredom than because he was looking for a good party. Draco glanced at his phone—it was almost two. He decided to dip after his cigarette.

A warm hand was pressing against the small of his back and he tensed before he inhaled the scent of gasoline and smoke and musk that was Potter, then the other boy was nipping his earlobe. Draco relaxed, going against every instinct he knew he should have, then let himself be led to the bathroom. He leaned against the cool tile and took a drag from his cigarette as Potter kicked open the stalls and shoved another couple out the door, then turned the lock.

“Done mingling?” Draco asked.

“You said something about coming earlier?”

Potter’s eyes were glinting and his hair was messy and he was biting his lip and Draco could practically see the destruction he wreaked in his grin. Draco took a drag and blew it in Potter’s face. Potter took the cigarette from between Draco’s fingers and inhaled before rubbing the filter out on the wall above Draco’s head. He closed his eyes as ash fell on his cheekbones, then felt the corners of his mouth tilt upward when he sensed more than felt Potter step into his space.

“That was you, actually,” Draco murmured, keeping his eyes closed.

Calloused fingers gripped his hipbones and slid his shirt upward. Not needing to be asked, Draco pulled his shirt off and over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Potter reached for him again, but Draco shoved him backward, grabbing his shirt and yanking it upward, insisting on Potter’s shirt being off as well. He didn’t bother hiding his roaming eyes when Potter let his shirt drop down beside Draco’s.

“This is new,” Draco said, rubbing his thumb above Potter’s clavicle.

An intricate black tattoo curled its way up and around Potter’s skin, blending with his other tattoos. It was a vine of thorns and it wrapped itself around Potter’s neck.

“You know, it’s supposed to be a _crown_ of thorns, not a noose,” Draco said as Potter’s fingers unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans. “It’ll kill you.”

“God, I hope so,” Potter said, before dropping to his knees.

Draco let his head thunk back against the tile as Potter took his cock into his mouth, then tangled his fingers in Potter’s dark, messy hair. The head of his cock hit the back of Potter’s throat and Potter hummed, causing Draco’s hips to jerk forward of their own accord. Potter made an irritated noise that only served to send vibrations through Draco’s cock before his hands were pressing Draco’s hips against the wall, holding them in place.

Potter hollowed his cheeks, then bobbed his head and Draco let out a low groan, tugging on Potter’s hair. He didn’t know what to do with himself, didn’t know how to deal with the pleasure other than to hold onto Potter’s hair for dear life. His skin was tingling and heat was gathering in his belly and he cracked his eyes open to meet Potter’s glowing green ones. Potter was watching him and that thought made Draco’s hips jerk forward again. Potter’s hands shoved him back against the wall roughly and Draco let out a groan.

One of Potter’s hands disappeared into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a packet of lube. Potter released Draco’s cock with a wet pop, then tore the packet open with his teeth. Before Draco could say anything, his cock was back in Potter’s mouth and Potter’s fingers, dripping in lube, were nudging Draco’s legs wider open.

He finger-fucked Draco slowly, first with one finger, then with two. The angle was awkward and Draco kept having to remind himself to relax, but having his cock sucked did wonders to distract him. Draco moaned when Potter took him deep, so deep his nose brushed against Draco’s abdomen. Draco vaguely realized that it was going to be over soon if Potter didn’t hurry up.

“Come on, are you gonna fuck me or what?” Draco panted, pulling on Harry’s hair to accentuate his point.

The two fingers inside him crooked and dug into his walls roughly and he let out a strangled gasp. Then Potter was standing up and unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down to his ankles like Draco’s. He pulled a condom out from his pocket and as he opened it and rolled it on, he nodded toward the sinks.

“Over there,” he said.

Draco listened, grabbing onto the edge of the sink and kneeling over, watching Harry in the mirror. Potter lined himself up before pushing in, not too gently. Draco let out a strangled gasp and maintained a white-knuckled grip on the sink. Once Potter’s thighs were against Draco’s, one of his hands wrapped around Draco’s hips again and the other carded through Draco’s hair before yanking it back. Draco groaned.

Potter didn’t thrust, but he rocked into Draco, waiting for him to adjust. Once he was used to Potter, Draco pushed back against his hips.

“Let’s go,” Draco said, meeting Potter’s eyes in the mirror.

“Whatever you say,” Potter murmured, tightening his grip on Draco’s hair, like it was his reins, and beginning a pace that started slowly, then built up to something bordering on brutal.

Draco was letting out sharp exhales and swallowing down moans and holding onto the sink for dear life. Potter was swearing and letting utterly filthy words pour from his lips, like a prayer, like there weren’t graveyards of poisoned Hail Marys in his wake. He was still the closest thing to a religion Draco had.

The room was filled with the sound of their skin slapping, their panting breaths, Draco’s gasps, Potter’s obscenities. Draco could feel his orgasm approaching and he let go of the sink to grab his cock with one of his hands. His hand was instantly slapped away and replaced by Potter’s, then Potter’s chest was plastered against Draco’s back, their sweat-slicked skin sliding together as Potter fucked him. And it was _fucking_. It was filthy and rough and Draco loved every second of it.

Potter let out a low groan and his teeth dug into Draco’s shoulder. That shouldn’t have been what pushed Draco over the edge, but it was. His vision whited out as pleasure washed over him and he came all over Potter’s hand. He clenched and fluttered around Potter’s cock, then Potter was coming too, with no shortage of swearing and groaning.

They leaned against one another, panting, for a few moments, gathering their breath, before Potter tied and tossed the condom in the overflowing trash can. Draco pulled up his pants and turned on the sink, splashing water onto his face. Potter washed his hands off in the sink, then pulled on his shirt, tossing Draco his. They didn’t speak as Draco pulled his shirt on.

The music from the party slowly came back to Draco as he realized where they were. He felt sated and was thankful that he didn’t have the option of laying in post-coital bliss with Potter—he was fucked enough as it was.

They didn’t speak as Potter unlocked the door, didn’t speak as they left the party together, escaping without Zabini realizing. Draco didn’t look at Potter as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, still didn’t when Potter took his lit cigarette to light his own. They leaned against the hood of Draco’s car together and smoked.

“That was fun,” Potter said as he crushed a filter beneath his shoe.

Draco hummed and followed suit, pushing himself up off the hood and pulling his keys from his pocket. Potter watched him before grinning slowly. He took Draco’s chin between his fingers, then angled his head so their lips collided. Potter tasted like smoke and liquor and Draco’s cock and it shouldn’t have been so good.

Potter pulled away after a moment or two and grinned at Draco like he owned him. He probably did.

“See you around, pretty boy,” Potter said.

“Fuck you,” Draco said, almost fondly, before turning away from Potter and walking over to the driver side of his car. Potter just laughed, wild and feral, and walked over to his own car.

As Draco drove away, he heard the heavy bass of Potter’s own car start up and he wondered what he was doing. Potter was a bomb and he’d go off one day, bringing down everyone in the vicinity.

He was dangerous and Draco couldn’t get enough.


End file.
